"You're being really strong, Peter. I know it's gotta be hard," Tony sat next to Peter at the dinner table on the second floor of the compound. He set the bowls of food down in the middle of the table, letting Cap and Peter fill their plates first.

Peter took the spoon Bucky was handing him, getting a few heaping spoonfuls of soup and pouring it into his big bowl. He took his spoon, playing around with the food before speaking, voice small and quiet. "It's not strong or anything." He used a balled fist to support his head, elbow on the table. "I just want May to be happy."

"You're putting your happiness aside for hers. That's strong, kid." Cap took the spoon from the big bowl after Peter had put it back, filling his own large bowl. "That's really mature."

The young spider remained silent as he ate his food. He didn't much care for compliments. While he was always thankful for them, especially when coming from his Avenger-family, but he still didn't like them.

"This guy isn't gonna replace you, Peter," Natasha hadn't even looked up to say it. Didn't have to. Her beautiful voice calmed him.

"What's his name? The guy she's dating-" Bucky received looks for it. He shrugged his shoulders, looking around with a questioning look as if he were saying "What's wrong with asking that?"

"It's fine," Everyone's heads snapped up to him, only then remembering he could hear their heartbeats. That, and he's very good at sensing people's emotions. "His name's Don."

"I knew a Don, once." Bucky sipped on his soup, quietly, when he got looks. That time might have been deserved...

Peter shrugged. "We haven't spent much time together, never alone, either. May's tried to see if we're able to be close but..." Everyone stared. "...we don't have anything in common, so it's really awkward." He finally took a little bit of his soup, sipping it, enjoying the warmth on his tongue. He trusted the Avengers enough to talk about it, but he didn't really want to. He knew they would never push him to talk about something he didn't want to, but he knew he should have. He really should have.

:::::::

"Oh, crap," May turned the stove off, wiping her hands with a towel. She grabbed her keys and wallet off the counter before rushing over to the dining table to grab her phone. She looked over to the couch where Peter and Don sat on opposite sides. "I forgot I'm out of cream. I'll be right back."

Peter's head shot up, staring at this aunt who was going for the door. "Wait!" She stopped in her tracks. She and Don both faced Peter, startled at the outburst. He curled in on himself, slightly. "I-I can help."

"You're too sweet, Peter. It's okay. It's one small carton. Nothing I can't handle."

His heart sped up. "I uh… You might not know where in the store it is." Was he being too obvious? He sure as Hell hoped not.

She laughed. "Of course, I know where it is. I'll be quick." She was gone in an instant, down to the the store down the block. Dammit. Was she just oblivious to the fact he didn't want to be there or did she want him and Don to bond? Either way, he didn't like it.

But… It was for May, so…

"Who's winning?" He didn't really follow hockey. Science was more important, anyway. Patrols were even more so. Why did May have to ask him to stay in?! She couldn't cook, anyway. Those lessons she was taking in her free time probably weren't helping. Peter internally scoffed at the thought. It wasn't like he didn't know why she really did it. It was an afternoon/night class she took… While he was out on patrols... He knew it was a distraction from her worrying about him.

"It's on the bottom of the screen, dipshit." Peter's head jerked back, slightly, at the name. He ignored it, assuming it was just him being a guy and playfully calling names. He looked to the bottom of the screen where the two were tied. Opportunity!

"Oh. Uh… who do you think's gonna win? Or who do you want to win?"

"Kings. Shut up, so I can listen." Okay so it wasn't banter. It was just rude. And why did he have to listen, anyway? If he knew what was happening, then why listen? You can see it happening! Regardless, Peter kept his typical kindness going. Silently. He continued to text Ned, hoping to keep himself calm in the horrendously awkward situation.

"i just want him to leave"

"sorry man. he's not staying the night is he"

"think he is. May said not in her room but it's still too long"

"is there any way you could get him out"

"idk. maybe?" He started to type again before Don took the phone out of his hand.

"I've been trying to ask you a damn question!" He stood, phone in hand. Peter wanted to reach out for it, scared he'd see the messages, but he cowered, slightly, at the yelling. Dude was loud when he was drunk. "What's so important that you're not answering me?" He pulled the phone up to his eyeline, squinting to see the tiny writing.

"It's nothing, it's just my friend and-" He reached out with a hand, going for the phone.

"You want to make me leave? How ya gonna do that?!" He threw the phone over to the side chair. He grabbed Peter's wrist, pulling him close, taking a step towards the teen who was curled up into a defensive ball on the couch, not yet pulled off.

"M-May could get back any minute, she-she-"

"You're right," Don left Peter's personal space, going for his phone on the dining table, next to where May's had been. He pressed a few buttons before setting it back down and walking back to the couch. "She's gonna be a little longer. I guess I got in the mood for some dessert. You know… the kind on the other side of the store that takes a little time to find?"

Peter's heart-rate picked up. He started to crawl backwards off the couch before Don grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. "You're not making me leave. If anyone's gonna be gone, it's you. You're almost nineteen, now. Time to move out."

"I-I just turned sixteen. I can't move out." Okay, that was admittedly stupid. If he were honest, yes he could actually move out. Tony would absolutely let him move into the compound full-time instead of part-time. Hell, he'd probably be perfectly fine with letting him get his own apartment. But that wasn't the point. He'd just given Don all the more reason to get frustrated with him.

"You talking back to me?!" When his grip on Peter's shirt started to slip, he brought his hand to his wrist, once again, tightly squeezing it, pulling the teen to stand in front of him. When he whimpered at the unsolicited hold, Don relinquished some of the strength in it. "Try it again. See what happens." Maybe if this asshole knew Peter was Spider-Man, he wouldn't be so chin up. But he couldn't.

:::::::

The next few months were full of "incidents" like that. Yelling and grabbing but not enough to bruise- things like that. Peter had tried to talk to the Avengers about it, but, they'd constantly been saying how strong he was and what a hero he was and how brave he was and May seemed to be really happy with him. How could he take away the first boyfriend she'd had since Uncle Ben died? She'd been so closed off, romantically, it just wasn't fair to her. Peter wanted to stay strong, but it was one afternoon where May wanted to have a movie night when things really started to go downhill. He really should've said something before it got to that point. It'd only get worse.

:::::::

"I'll be right back. Silly me, forgetting the butter like that." Okay, it was a bonding excuse, for sure. May bolted out the door, obviously excited. Peter huffed out his nose, wishing he could tell her.

Every time with Don, Peter had said something- done something- to prompt the… the… why not call it what it really was? The abuse.

This time was different, though. To Peter, nothing prompted the outburst. He didn't do anything. He just assumed the guy had a bad day and decided to take it out on him. Don rushed at Peter who was just innocently walking behind the couch after he'd had a few drinks. He must've had some before he got to the apartment, because there was no way a guy that big had two beer cans and was suddenly hammered.

He grabbed the teen by the forearms, before bringing a hand back to strike him across the face. It wasn't long until his hand was around Peter's throat, squeezing tight, cutting off any air that tried to get into his lungs. The Avenger's wide eyes went to the man's huge biceps and puffed chest. He was angry. Not at him, he assumed, but it really didn't matter.

The spider desperately gasped for breath, bringing his hands up to Don's wrists. He wasn't going to let this guy know about his powers but he also wasn't gonna let him kill him. How long was he supposed to wait to throw him off, though? At some point, his powers weren't gonna come into play. It wouldn't matter if he could stop a bus with his bare hands if he couldn't even breathe. Oxygen was pretty necessary when it came to strength.

"You're the reason!" Don's breath reeked of alcohol. "Stupid boss. Stupid kid. Stupid-" His eyes went wide before he dropped Peter to the floor, gasping and coughing. Don ran for the bathroom, evacuating his stomach contents.

Peter listened to the gagging in the other room, as he was desperately trying to get his breathing under control. Once he'd gotten it to a point where he could say it was good enough, he ran into his room, grabbed his backpack with his suit inside and bolted out of his window, barely closing it behind him.

He swung through the night, people not paying attention to the teenager in civilian clothes swinging from the skyscrapers. He landed on the Chrysler Building where he and Tony had met time and time again. He crawled up to the roof, changing into his suit. His mask's interface came up and Karen spoke, voice cheery as ever. "Hello, Peter. How are you, tonight? You seem to have contusions around your throat. It seems the skin around that area is irri-"

"I'm fine, Karen." His tone was harsh as he started to sob. "I'm fine." This time, a gentler, hushed tone as his voice cracked.

"You're crying," She said, sweetly.

"I'm fine. It-It's nothing. Don't tell Mr. Stark. Don't." Peter pressed a hand to his chest, the suit taking shape to his body. "Just find something for me."

"Of course." She hummed, a map coming within view before disappearing. "There is nothing in your general area."

"I can't just go home, Karen." Peter's voice shook, much to his distaste. "And you can't possibly tell me there's no crimes happening in New York City, at all."

"Mr. Stark would most-likely be very glad to see you at the compound."

"Sounds good," He started to gather himself before a ringing came into his ears from the mask.

"Aunt May. Uh… I-I… Just answer it." Peter paced as he got his crying under control. "Hey, May."

"Peter, where are you? Are you on patrols?" She sounded worried. He hated when she sounded like that. "I asked you to stay in, tonight."

"Yeah, I'm on patrols. I just haven't been out in a couple days."

"Well get back. It's late. Don just left so I thought it'd be cool for us to have some alone time. It's been a while and I just thought I could beat you in Mario Kart."

Peter let out a quiet relieved sigh and a little laughter. "Sounds great, May. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He changed back to his regular clothes after a happy goodbye to Karen. He wiped his tears away before swinging back to the apartment. He climbed inside, setting his bag down before walking back out into the living room. Seeing Don wasn't there, his muscles relaxed, though he hadn't known they were so tense in the first place.

He came around the couch to sit in his usual spot he sat in when Don wasn't there. He grabbed the controller off the coffee table, watching May walk towards him with a big bowl of popcorn. She sat next to him, looking over to him, lovingly. Her eyes widened, hands coming up towards his throat before backing off, going to her mouth.

"Oh, Peter," She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at the bruises around his neck. "Honey, you have to be more careful."

Peter tilted his head, confused. "What?"

"Did the bad guys choke you?" Her tone was hard. He hated that tone. The flashbacks came fast and painful, like getting hit by a truck.

He fought his tears that threatened to show themselves. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not in front of May. It'd look like it was the patrols taking the toll on him and not that f… freaking… ape of a man.

"It's nothing, May."

"Peter, you're stronger than that. I know it's hard but you can't let them get that close. They could have killed you!" She brought him into a hug. Maybe it was his fault. He was letting this guy do it to him. He had powers. He was the one letting Don hurt him like that. Maybe he deserved it if he was so willing to let it happen. He had been spending the past year and a half letting May worry about him while he did what he wanted- being Spider-Man. Maybe he deserved the pain for putting her through the pain. It was fair, wasn't it?

Maybe.

:::::::

After one particularly bad beating, Peter escaped the apartment with broken bones. He wanted, so badly, to go to the compound but he'd already promised Tony he'd take a week's break from patrols due to an arm injury that was honestly nothing.

He swung through the city, tears falling from his eyes to the ground below him. He went as fast as he could, arms burning with the effort. When he got to his desired destination, he knocked on the window, having wiped all of his tears away. He listened for the joyous tip taps on the hardwood floors until the window was opened in front of him.

"Peter? I thought you were staying in, tonight," Ned stepped back, getting out of his best friend's way, allowing him into his bedroom.

Peter stepped in, sitting down on the bed, "I decided I wanted to come here. Don's there and he and I just don't click, y'know?" He set his backpack down, putting the suit inside before changing into sweatpants and a shirt. With every movement, he groaned with the feeling of grinding bones. He side-eyed Ned, feeling the tense emotions coming from his best friend. "What?" His tone was fake-confused. He knew good and well 'what'. He didn't wanna tell Ned. He didn't want to burden him with that secret.

"You're hurt. Don't you go to Mr. Banner when you're hurt?"

Peter gave a fake laugh, doing his best to hide how much said fake laugh hurt. "I'm not hurt too bad. Just a few bruises." Peter finished pulling his hoodie over his head, laying on the side of the bed.

Ned turned the TV on, sitting on the opposite side of Peter, eyeing his friend every few moments. "I'm just saying, it looks pretty bad."

"That's how it works. Sometimes it looks worse than it is." Peter watched the TV along with Ned, hoping to God he wouldn't keep pushing it. He just wanted to sit and watch and pretend his life wasn't what it was. Just him, Ned and the TV.

The room went silent for a few minutes before Ned spoke up, again. "Peter, it's getting late and my parents said no more sleepovers during the school week."

No answer.

"Peter?"

Silence.

/

Ned looked over to see his best friend in a deep sleep. He considered waking the spider before an idea, a fantastic idea, came to mind. He slowly got out of the bed as to not wake Peter. He went over to his chair in the corner of his room, grabbing Peter's phone out of his backpack, putting in the password he had known for years. He tapped away on the screen, waiting for the phone to ring.

"Peter? It's late, buddy," Bruce's voice was raspy and tired but Ned ignored it for his best friend's good.

"Mr. Bruce? Mr. Banner? This is Ned."

"I'm sorry, who? Why do you have Peter's phone?" His tone changed, quickly, to worry making Ned freak out.

"I'm his best friend, sir. Peter's at my house, right now, and he's hurt and he won't go home and he's my best friend so I don't care that he won't go home but he's-"

Bruce cleared his throat, an obviously nice way to tell the kid to stop rambling, "I remember you, now." He sighed, "Okay. I'll come get him. Why doesn't he want to go home? Why didn't he come to the compound?"

"I don't know. He said it wasn't a big deal but I know he was lying."

Ned heard shuffling in the background of the call, thankful that someone was coming to get his friend… and wow, he was gonna meet the Hulk!

:::::::

"What, are you scared of me? It's embarrassing."

Peter looked all around for the voice. It was deep. Loud. He couldn't find the source. Why?

"I. Made. You." The voice laughed. "I gave you the fear that made you what you are."

There was the voice, again! Peter's head was on a swivel, looking all around him, finding nothing. Wait… Where was he? White walls, floors, ceiling… It was a box. An all white box with nothing in it. Nothing but a haunting, deep voice that sounded so familiar. It was on the tip of the spider's tongue, but he couldn't quite get it.

The voice came back with a heavy mocking tone, "'I wish my parents and Uncle Ben were here.' We all do, so we could stop hearing you whine about it, crying in your room like a baby!" It was so much louder, now. "You're worthless, buddy. You're nothing but a waste of space. A waste of oxygen, you hear me?"

Tears filled Peter's eyes, much to his distaste, especially when a few managed to escape to cascade down his cheeks in little cold rivulets. His bravery kicked in, though, from years of being Spider-Man. "Shut up! I don't wanna hear another sentence!" His voice shook. Dammit.

"Aw, look, he's standing up for himself! It's about time, you worthless fear-filled fuck."

Where was that stupid voice coming from?! Peter punched at one of the walls, breaking through it only to be met with another white box, identical to the last, replacing the hole he had just made with another wall. Back to square one.

"I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut!" Peter would have, most likely, been a lot less bold when speaking to the voice had he seen the source of it, but he couldn't so- much like a troll behind a keyboard and computer screen, he was lured into a false sense of security behind his words.

"Hey, Peter? Listen up, buddy, you don't tell me what to do! I decide what happens in your life, now!" There it was! That's why the voice was so familiar! Peter shuddered, continuing to turn in slow circles, looking for the voice's body.

"Don Harkum."

"Right." When Peter turned another foot, he was there. That big, ape-like creature commonly called a man. His big, meaty hand wrapped around Peter's small, delicate throat, squeezing, much to Don's pleasure. The young Avenger punched as hard as he could at the man, terrified when it did absolutely nothing.

"M-my powers?" His voice was hoarse through the tight hold on his throat.

"Useless. Just. Like. You." Don slammed Peter, back first, onto the ground like Vulture had done, once before. He brought a balled fist up behind him before swinging it to make contact to Peter's face. Over and over and over again. The teen cried out between blows, spitting out blood if he'd even gotten the chance.

Peter brought up a hand to try and stop the fist, when the man blew right through it with a cracking sound in the teen's arm.

:::::::

Peter woke up with a gasping breath, jolting upright. Bruce fell back, onto the floor of the young Avenger's med bay room. When he noticed the doctor on the ground, his head jerked back in confusion. "Bruce?"

"You're welcome," The doctor stood, gesturing to the bandages around Peter's chest.

"Oh. Thanks." His voice was small with a hint of fear.

"What happened? Gangsters or cartel? Super-human or street thug with high-tech weapons?"

"Does it matter?"

Bruce stopped going through the medical file, holding a page mid-turn. He faced the Avenger, eyes wide. "Uh… I guess not, but… You feeling okay? Did they get your head?"

"I'm fine," His tone was much harsher than he'd wanted it to be.

"You wanna talk about that nightmare you just sent me across the floor for?"

"Not really, to be honest."

Bruce sighed, "Fine. Go talk to Sam and then I'll take you home."

Peter got up from the bed, putting his sweatshirt back on, groaning at Bruce's request. "I said I don't wanna talk about it."

Bruce side-eyed the hero, "That's not what it's about. He wouldn't tell me. Just go talk to him and meet me at the car."

:::::::

Peter would remember the Monday of the next week to be both the greatest and worst day of the whole year, so far.

He trudged in the front door of the apartment, so tired, he longed for his bed like a starving man longed for food.

"Well would you look who bothered to show up."

That voice. That deep, drunken, hideous voice.

He wanted to stay quiet, to go to his room and be alone, but he figured if he didn't speak, he'd get beat. If he did, he'd still get beat. Might as well get a word in, right? "May here?" Simple enough question. Shouldn't piss the guy off.

"I don't need her to be here to be here!" Drunken grammar, there's monkeys more articulate than this fool, sure they had the same body type but not intelligence. Obviously, it wasn't a simple enough question because now the lunatic was angry.

"Guess not," the spider spoke under his breath.

"What was that?!" Don stood, wobbling for a moment before catching himself. Dammit. He really thought the dick wouldn't hear.

"Nothing, I said I'm going to bed," His words came too fast. Even to a hammered person, it was clear he was lying. He just prayed the man was too drunk to notice.

"Come here." Don slowly set is beer down, either for dramatic effect as an intimidation tactic, or he was just that smashed, he needed to be slow to keep from falling over onto the floor, face first. Peter hoped it were the latter.

For a minute, the young Avenger considered running out the door, again. All of his thoughts from the previous few months came flooding to mind. Every night he'd come home, Don would tell him how worried May was.

He was right. He's out on patrols, doing God-knows-what while May has no idea what he's doing or who's beating on him or if he's even gonna come home. He deserved the beating for making her worry. He deserved the maiming for letting Don do it in the first place.

He deserved everything he'd gotten for the past few months.

All of it.

He dropped his bag where he stood, walking over to Don, heart racing. Regardless of how he felt about his "deserved" thrashing, it still scared him. It was still gonna hurt and his spidey sense didn't make it any easier to face the beast.

Part of him thought he should have just cut and run. He shoved that part of his brain down, allowing his fear to swallow him whole, driving him step by step into the monster's wake.

He stood there, waiting for the first blow. Those who say the anticipation is worst part, haven't had their face pounded in by Don Harkum.

The blows kept coming, with no sign of stopping. Every punch to the face provided more blood in Peter's mouth, the copper tang overtaking his taste buds.

Peter barely cried out, not bothering to fight back, even when the giant had him on his back on the ground, pounding on the teen.

He didn't pull his punches, either.

Peter felt everything. The cracking ribs that kept cracking until they finally broke under the pressure. He felt his arm break after a seismic blow to the bicep and his orbital bone was, most-likely, cracked, but at that point, what wasn't?

The young Avenger slowly got to a point, where, even if he wanted to fight back, he couldn't because he was so weak.

That's when the lock on the front door started to rattle. Don quickly got off of the teen, running to grab the chair next to the couch, bringing the bottom of it to swing into the window. He turned over the lamp, tossing the coffee table half-way across the room to run right back to where Peter lay motionless on the ground, wheezing with every painful breath, blood filling his mouth.

When the door opened, Peter winced at the blood-curdling scream that filled the air. In what felt like less than a second, May was right by his side, hands waving over him, tears falling onto his chest.

"What happened?! What happened to him?!" May looked up from Peter's nearly lifeless body to Don.

"These guys, they just… They just came in and tried to rob us and I tried to fight them off but one got to Peter and I couldn't stop them, I'm sorry!"

May scooped Peter up into her arms, struggling with the weight. "We have to go. I'll call you later, okay?"

"May, please, let me help. He's heavy."

"I'm not letting anyone else touch him. Not right now. I promise I'll call you, tonight. I need to get him to a doctor." She gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for trying to protect him. It probably would have been a lot worse if you hadn't."

"May-" He faked a kind tone.

"I've got this, Don." Her tone was protectively hard, missing a drop of empathy.

:::::::

"What happened?!" Bruce ran along Peter's gurney through the halls of the medical floor of the compound.

May watched as Peter lay still, sobbing with no regards to the people around him. "Some people tried to rob us and Don had to stop them but they got to Peter and it's really bad!"

"We'll get him right into surgery. I'll have Friday list his injuries if you want, but I really need to go with him and you need to stay out here."

She stopped where she was told, right in front of those cursed white double doors leading into the O.R. She'd been there time and time again but it never made it easier. It never made her heart hurt any less.

"He's gonna be okay," Tony stepped up behind her, leading her into Peter's personal bay room. "Always is."

"That kid can stop my metal arm from punching him, so he's pretty strong," Bucky sat in the couch in Peter's room, pulling his phone out of his pocket, excited he'd learned how to use it.

Tony looked at the White Wolf, giving him a disapproving look.

"You tried to punch my nephew?" May looked up to the steel-blue-eyed man.

"For training…" His words trailed off to a mumble.

"That kid's got more heart and drive than I've ever seen in anyone his age," Nat went to her chair beside the couch Bucky sat on.

Tony grabbed a glass of water from the side table next to his chair to hand to May, "He has the entirety of the Avengers and a bunch of other heroes backing him. If there's anything he needs or any problem that comes up, we've got it covered."

May started to cry, not bothering to take the cup. "Even death?"

"Little depressing, but okay."

"Rocket, go find Groot." Nat stood, intimidating even the crazy space trash panda.

"Sorry about him, he's…" Bucky stared off into the distance. "Nobody knows what he is."

"Do you need anything while we wait?" Tony watched as Natasha sat back down in her chair, satisfied Rocket was gone.

"Updates."

"I promise." Tony stood, motioning for the other heroes to follow him out to allow her some alone time. The two took notice, following the Iron Man out.

:::::::

Peter's eyes had barely opened before May was up and sitting right next to him on the bed, rubbing a gentle hand on the back of his.

"Hey, baby." She ran a hand through his curls, allowing them to fall right back into place.

Peter groaned, still feeling every injury he'd endured the night before. "Med bay?" Hell, he'd been there enough to know the faint smell of cleaning chemicals, hear the EKG and see the brightness Tony had Friday set up for when he was recovering.

"Yeah. How you feeling?"

He tried to sit up before letting out a cut off pained gasp. "I wanna say I'm fine but I have to say I'm not."

"I can say I'm fine. I'm always fine. The best looking person in the whole motherfuckin' world, my friend."

Peter rolled his eyes as he tried to sit up, again with success. "Not in the mood."

"Aw why not?" The tone was slightly mocking.

"Not now, Wade!" Peter grabbed at his torso, curling in on himself at the pain the yelling caused.

The merc mumbled expletives under his breath as he walked out of the room, scratching his butt with the barrel of his gun.

"Hey, Peter," Natasha sat down in the recliner next to Peter's bed, smiling when the spider looked over to her. Bucky followed close behind, pulling a chair up next to the recliner, plopping onto the cushion.

"Hey, kid."

May stood from the bed, giving Peter a kiss on the forehead. "I'll go get something to eat from the kitchen."

How was Peter so lucky? She always seemed to know when he needed time and when he needed her.

"Don did this, didn't he?" Nat was unashamed and blunt, even when Bucky looked at her with a shocked expression, eyes wide.

Peter stammered before remembering it was pointless to lie to her. "Yeah…" His voice shook with the one simple word before the dam broke and the tears fell like Niagra.

"We figured." Bucky's voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"For how long has be been doing this to you?" Natasha kept her hands off of him as she sat next to the spider on the bed.

Peter sobbed, hands reaching out for her, taking her into a tight hug. "Two weeks after they started dating."

"Kid…" Bucky's tone was quiet, full of sympathy. "They've been dating for ten months."

Peter shook in Natasha's hold, sobs heavier and heavier with every passing moment. The EKG screamed, alarms blaring at the rise in heart-rate, causing Bruce and Tony to come worriedly running in with May following closely behind.

"What's happening?!" Tony and May, in unison, watching as Peter continued his sobbing in his spider hug.

"Do you want me to tell them or do you want to?" Natasha spoke into the teen's hair.

"Y-you." His voice shook, violently. "I-I c-c-can't." He tried to get his breathing under control.

"May, you might want to sit." Natasha waited for her to sit before continuing. "Your boyfriend… Don, is it?"

The woman nodded, eyes wide.

"You've been dating for the past ten months?"

Nod.

"Peter says that it started two weeks after you started dating him. He's been b… He…" She sighed. The word would be unavoidable, especially in court. "He's been abusing Peter, May."

She did nothing. Not at first. Suddenly, she was out of the door, leaving everyone behind. Natasha smiled, imagining what she would do. Tony followed May down the halls, directing her out of the building, planning on doing exactly what he thought she was.

"You'll never see him again. He will never cause you any more problems." Natasha smiled, kissing the small spider's head, hugging him even tighter as she felt his breathing slowly calm. "I promise."